Revelations
by Marenfic
Summary: Angel gets his Shanshu and calls Buffy.


Title:  Revelations

Author Contact Info:  Marenfic@yahoo.com

Disclaimer:  I don't own anything.  

Feedback:  Please.

Summary:  Angel gets his Shanshu and calls Buffy.  When Buffy comes running, she finds out some information that makes her question her life.  Angst, and sad ending so don't say you weren't warned.

Author Note:  I am passionately B/A.  Really, I am.  I just have felt very bitter about Angel's development over the past few seasons and I needed to work out my bitterness by giving Buffy the chance to make her decisions based on full-disclosure.  So I'm hoping this story has helped me work it all out and you can expect B/A stuff from me in the future.  

Italics indicate thoughts.  

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It was late afternoon when Buffy arrived at the L.A. address Angel had given her.  He had called yesterday to tell her that they had won the final battle against Wolfram & Hart.  She was happy for him, but surprised by the call—he had won plenty of battles in their time apart and had never called her to fill her in on the details.  He had hesitated slightly before explaining the real reason for his call.

"I . . . Buffy, I'm human now.  It was my reward from the Powers That Be."

Buffy had closed her eyes and stopped breathing for long moments before the tears began to course down her face.  "Angel. . ." she breathed, before he cut her off.

"Buffy, I need for you to listen to me for minute.  I've known about this possibility for years—I found out about it a year after I came to L.A.  I didn't tell you because there was no timetable on it and I didn't want you to wait around for me, waste your life.  I don't know if you still love me, if you have any feelings left for me, but you have always been in my heart and if it were up to me alone, I would spend the rest of my life with you," he said, with equal parts hope and desperation in his voice.

It was a moment before Buffy could gather her thoughts and form the words that she had been waiting to speak since the moment she realized she was in love with him.  "I have never stopped loving you, Angel.  I want to spend my life with you too."

Angel had sighed in relief and asked her to come see him.  His voice had been filled with sorrow when he told her that he couldn't leave L.A., that Gunn and Fred had died in the battle and Wesley was seriously hurt and in the hospital.  She understood that he had to be there, that he had to be with Wesley.  She told him that she could be there in two days and they had made plans for the meeting that they had both been unconsciously waiting for since the day he had left her to go to L.A.  

When Buffy had found out that there was a flight she could make immediately, though, she had taken it.  She was ecstatic and couldn't wait to surprise him.  So now here she was in L.A., in a cab in front of Angel's house.  She suspected he was still at the hospital, enjoying his ability to exist in the sunlight.  She would wait for him—what were a few more hours after the years that she had already endured?

Using her hand to shade her eyes from the sun, she looked out of the window of the cab to see a modest but beautiful Spanish-style house with gorgeous landscaping in the front.

_So this is it_, she thought approvingly.  She knew he had been used to living in some pretty opulent places, between a mansion, a hotel, and a corporate penthouse, but this felt right to her.  It felt like the kind of place Angel had been denying himself for so long.  It felt like a home.  

Buffy paid the driver and carried her bag up the stairs to the front door.  She ran her hands over her hair, and then her dress, smoothing them both down before she knocked.  When no one answered, she twisted the knob and finding the door unlocked, let herself in.

_It's no wonder he gets attacked all the time—he hasn't learned to lock a door in 250-odd years_.  Buffy smiled and set her bag down as she took in her surroundings.  She could tell that he had just moved in and that he hadn't been around much to get things settled.  There were still boxes stacked neatly on the edges of the room, but she could see that he hadn't wasted time finding a huge comfy leather chair to sit and read in.  There were already several books on the built-in shelves, and one cracked open and sitting on a small antique table next to the chair.  She continued her exploration through the house, noting that the huge stainless steel refrigerator was filled to the brim with a variety of food. Buffy giggled.  _He lives alone and has enough food to feed a family of 20—too bad he wasn't human yet when we had to feed the Potentials." _

She grabbed an apple and moved on until she found his bedroom.  Being in his bedroom, knowing that all the barriers to their union were finally gone, was . . . exciting.  It put a knot deep in her stomach.  She looked around, trying to distract herself from her the direction her thoughts had started to take.  The room was dominated by his large bed (uh-oh, those thoughts again!), but it still had room for another reading chair and even more books.  She could see several of his sketchbooks and small leather-bound journals lying next to a partially unpacked box.  

Buffy walked over to the chair, sat down, and picked up one of the sketchbooks.  As she began flipping through the pages, she began to feel a little sick.  Page after page showed sketches of Cordelia Chase, most of her laughing and smiling, but also some in which she was looking out from the pages seductively.  Buffy threw down the sketchbook, the bile rising in her throat in equal measure to the hysteria rising in her mind.  She picked up another to find the same theme—Cordy on every page.  The fact that Angel had spent what looked like years worshipping Cordy with his pencil slapped her in the face.  Her chest was tight, she was fighting for each breath, and seconds later she was running to the bathroom, just making it to the toilet before losing the contents of her stomach.  Minutes passed while Buffy rested her head against the cool porcelain, trying to will her mind to stop spinning and her stomach to stop cramping.  Nearly an hour passed before Buffy was able to weakly make it to her feet.  She needed to find out what had been going on in the years since Angel had left her, his absence explained by his desire for her to have a "normal" life.  

Angel's journals beckoned to her.  She knew she would find the answers to the questions her mind was loathe to pose in them.

The sun was beginning its afternoon descent when Buffy finally set down the volume she had been reading.  Her tears stained her face, as well as the pages of the journals she had been reading for the past several hours.  What her eyes had told her when she saw the sketches were confirmed by Angel's own handwriting.  He had been falling in love with Cordy.  He had been about to start a life with her when the Powers that Be had intervened.  Even after the woman had slept with his son, Angel had continued to pine after her.  And then, after he had come to Buffy in Sunnydale and made it seem to her that he would always be waiting for her, he had still wanted his chance with Cordy.  When he thought she had awoken from her coma, he had been overjoyed and ready to pick up where they had left off.

Buffy was devastated.  She couldn't stop crying at the thought of Angel in love with someone else, and it stung that that someone else was Cordelia.  When she was finally able to form a coherent thought, though, her devastation turned to anger.

_Angel left me because he couldn't give me a normal life with sunshine and children- at least that's what he said.  I didn't care—I wanted my life to be with him no matter what sacrifices we had to make but he told me he didn't and he left.  I always thought, deep in my heart, that he would come to his senses someday.  I felt it somewhere deep inside me that we would find our way back to each other someday because our love was true and strong and unbreakable.  I've lived these last 5 years in the shadow of our love.  No one has been able to compare to Angel—I wouldn't let them.  I thought he loved me, I thought our love was strong, true, soulful . . . immortal._

_I've refused to let anyone into my heart but Angel.  I wouldn't allow myself to love Riley the way he deserved to be loved.  After that I never even tried to love another being.  Angel was it for me and I thought I was it for him. _

_I guess not!  He didn't love me enough to make it want to work, but he was willing to "damn" Cordy to live a life of darkness with him?  He wanted her enough to be willing to make the sacrifices that he would have to make to be with her but not me.  Never me.  _

Buffy's anger turned to pain when she remembered how she had felt after she had been taken out of heaven, how she had clung to the possibility of being with Angel, of having his arms around her to comfort her and lead her out of the darkness.  These thoughts had been the only thing to sustain her at first.  She sobbed as she remembered their one meeting and his continued arguments about their ability to be together.  Now she knew why he had rejected her.

_I was dying inside, I just needed his arms around me, and now I know that he was already over me and moving onto Cordy.  It must have been such an inconvenience for him to have to deal with me, even if it was only that one time.  He said all the right things, but they were obviously empty words.  I was dead on the inside, screwing Spike to feel just a little bit of connection to another being, and he was here in L.A. playing family with Cordy.  He didn't care.  I always thought he didn't know, and maybe he didn't, but it doesn't matter because he didn't care._

Buffy's sobs racked her body until she didn't have another tear to cry.  She wiped her eyes and tried to clear her mind, to think clearly and logically before making any decisions about what she would do.  She had been making decisions based on her feelings for Angel for years.  Now, for the first time since she had met him, she realized she needed to think about a life without him.  

She had wasted so much of her life waiting for this man who didn't cherish her love the way that she had cherished his.  She hadn't let herself fully live, love, since he had left her and now she realized what a tremendous mistake that had been.  She had missed so much joy because she had been waiting for him.  Now she wasn't even sure if he would have called her after turning human if Cordy was still alive—no she _was_ sure, sure that he would be living in this house making a home with another woman.  She was here because of circumstances, nothing else. 

_Is this what I deserve?  Maybe.  I've certainly deluded myself all of these years- I've been stupid.  But I don't have to be stupid anymore.  I have so much to live for; I deserve so much more out of life.  I deserve to be with someone who loves me as much as I love him.  I realize I can't ever have that with Angel—I clearly never meant as much to him as he has meant to me.  Even if I never love anyone quite as much as I love him, at least I will know that I'm not second-best.  _

The Slayer realized then that she had made her decision, a decision that she had never been strong enough to make before.  She would finally allow herself to move on with her life.  She would grieve the finality of their break-up in a way that she never had before.  It would hurt, and she knew that there would be times when she would be tempted to come back to L.A. and be Angel's consolation prize.  But there was a new strength inside her, a new confidence that hadn't been there before.  _I will be o.k._, Buffy thought.  _I will be whole, I will love, and I will be loved the way I deserve to be._

Buffy took a deep breath and stood up.  She stretched her muscles and made her way back to the bathroom to wash her tear-stained face.  When she caught her reflection in the mirror, she struggled not to look away.  Buffy forced herself to face the woman looking at her in the mirror, and she saw the grief in the hazel eyes, but she also saw the strength behind the grief.  She stared at her reflection for a moment, coming to terms with the new person who had emerged in just one afternoon.  The woman who looked back at her was a little wiser, a little more serene.  Smoothing her hair one last time, she turned away from the mirror and made her way back into the living room.

It was dusk when Buffy closed the front door behind her.  She walked slowly down the street, considering her options.  A slow smile spread across her face as she contemplated all of the things that she could do now that she was no longer tied to the dream of Angel.  A trip to Brazil to visit Willow seemed like a great first stop.  She hadn't seen her in quite some time, and besides, Brazilian boys were cute, weren't they?

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Angel rubbed his eyes as he stepped out of the car.  It had been a long day, and Wesley's condition wasn't improving.  His sorrow was tempered, however, by the thought that his Buffy would be with him in just a few short hours.

He was surprised and overjoyed when he walked into his house and the smell of her perfume hit him.  A smile spread across his face and he began to walk from room to room, quietly looking for her, wanting to surprise her right back.    

When he had checked most of the rooms and he couldn't find her, he was concerned.  When he walked into the dark bathroom off of his bedroom and caught the lingering smell of sickness, he became panicked.  He turned on the lights and called out for her, not worried about trying to surprise her any longer.  He scanned the room before moving back into the bedroom and turning the lights on in there too.  

His newly beating heart stopped for a moment when he saw the sketchbook sitting open on the bed with a letter tucked into the fold.  He slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching for the letter with a shaking hand.  When he picked it up, his eyes fell to the sketch of Cordy that the letter marked.  He had drawn her as he had imagined she looked naked, with a seductive smile on her face and an invitation in her eye.  Angel buried his face in his hands, the tears beginning to pool in their palms.  He had never meant for Buffy to see these, never meant for her to know that he had almost convinced himself to try to love another woman in a way that he could only ever love her.

Angel took a deep breath and made himself tear open the envelope.  Inside, he found a neatly folded sheet of paper with Buffy's unmistakable feminine handwriting scrawling across it.  The letter was only 4 lines long.

_I'm the Slayer.  I can never give you the normal life that you deserve.  You deserve to live in sunshine, to have children, to go on picnics.  Or something like that, right?—Buffy_

Angel picked up a vase that was sitting on the bedside table and threw it hard against the wall.  He watched, detached, as it shattered into a million pieces and rained down onto the hardwood floor.  

He could feel the despair opening up under him, swallowing him into its darkness, and he welcomed it.

The End.    


End file.
